


Sunlight

by lakeghost



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Unrequited Love, Vampires, chain reaction of mutual pining, pls help my asexual vampire son, we all goof up sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-29 23:33:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14483634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lakeghost/pseuds/lakeghost
Summary: What I personally wish would have happened post episode 03x04 - "Thy Soul Instructed"





	Sunlight

      Clary lay in bed, anxious and nowhere near sleep, when her phone buzzed. Isabelle was calling her. Calling? Clary felt her stomach drop in anticipation of bad news.  
“Yeah?” The red-head opened hesitantly. She heard Izzy sniffle and breathed a sigh of relief that she was still breathing.  
“Hey, Clary. You trying to sleep?” It was clear in her voice that the correct and answer was no. Thankfully it was also true.  
“I can’t. After this morning and the lab tech and this new vampire on the loose I’m still processing.” She paused, worried that bringing out her issues with insensitive. She decided that it would at least give Izzy a little something else to focus on. “Jace has been zero help. I wish I could just break through whatever the hell is going on with him.”

“Jace is an absolute dumbass.” Clary could her a smile on her voice. “Don’t worry - pester him enough and he’ll start gushing about his angst.”  
They both tried laughing to fill a long pause.  
“Um, why did you call? Not that I don’t want to hear or be there or-“  
“Oh my God Clary, you’re fine! I just need to vent.”  
“Oh.” Clary ran through the events of the past few days. “Oh!”  
“Raphael has really gotten under my skin, and I think I really messed up.” Clary pulled her knees up to her chest and moved her phone to her other ear. “What do you mean? I thought you handled the whole scene on the roof really well.”  
“I snuck into the DuMort a couple hours ago and found out he’d been the one who turned the new vamp. He was keeping her chained up in the basement.”  
“Jesus.”  
“Yeah, I know. But it wasn’t a violation of the Accords or anything. I was just so – I think I was still hung up on how we ended things, and just wanted to have some control over everything, I told him to leave the city by tomorrow night.”  
“Izzy, it’s fine. You had a right to be upset, this new vamp is for sure a potential threat, and you’re still raw. With everything else going on, it’ll blow over by the end of the week.” To be honest, Clary wasn’t so sure. From her limited experience, Raphael seemed like the kind of guy who could hold a grudge for decades.  
The was a silence in which Izzy seemed to be carefully considering her words. “I told him it was Clave orders.”  
“Yikes.”  
“Yeah, ‘yikes’ is it. Fuck, what if he challenges the order, or goes after a Shadowhunter, or-“  
“Hey hey hey – calm down.” Clary kept her personal freak-out to herself. Last time there had been Clave/New York Clan tension Raphael had literally attempted to kill her.  
“You weren’t there! He was still limping and starting crying, and after Rosa-“  
“His sister? What happened?” Izzy had started choking up at this point, and Clary was beginning to feel very out of her depth.  
“Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I’ve been even more close-lipped about this whole thing than I thought. She died, Clary. She’d been in rough shape for a few months, I think Raph was preparing himself for it, but it hit him really hard.”  
Clary was at a loss for words.  
“She was all he had left, his little sister. I keep thinking about how if something were to happen to Max, or Alec – I don’t know how I would handle myself.”  
“That’s … awful. I mean, I guess everyone mourns in their own way, but I would think for a guy who sleeps in a coffin he’d have his shit a little more together.”  
Dead silence on the other end.  
“I’m sorry, that was unfair.” Still didn’t feel that guilty. Clary was discovering she held more of a grudge than she thought.  
“When Jocelyn died, what helped you get through it?” Clary was taken aback, but wanted to be supportive of Izzy any way she could.  
“Just processing it over time, I guess. I couldn’t accept she was gone – you know that. It took a grand dark magic fuck-up to clear my head.”  
“True.”  
“But I think standing by her at the funeral, witnessing the end in ceremony, was good. I had people around me who cared.” All the feelings that Clary held were rising to the surface, and it was beginning to scare her.  
“I’m glad you’re processing your grief – can’t even imagine, honestly. But Clary, this is my point – all he wanted was to see Rosa off, put a flower on her grave, and he can’t. It’s eating him alive.” Izzy’s voice was rising in pitch and volume. It was clear she’d been turning this over in her mind for a while. “I was way too pissed to process it all when I faced him, but I think I messed up. Did I? God, he just wanted to say goodbye.”  
“I don’t think I understand – why can’t he?”  
“Well generally speaking, I think he would like to not be on fire during his sister’s funeral.” Oh, whoops, Clary mentally backtracked.  
“But why did he have the girl? What does any of this have to do with anything?”  
Izzy sighed forcefully. “He thought he could do something to make the fledgling a daylighter. He thought that if he could figure it out, he could see Rosa one last time, and maybe do something to help the Clan.”  
“But we don’t know how it happened to Simon, it was some kind of fluke, right?” Though Clary’s confidence in her shadowworld knowledge had come a long way in the past year, her background in vampire lore was hazy.  
“As far as we know, yes. But that didn’t stop him from trying.” Isabelle had reined in her emotion, but was still shaky.  
“Izzy?”  
“Yeah?”  
“You’re going to be okay, okay?”  
“Well, yes, but that’s not my point.”  
“Right now, you need to focus on that, alright? This train of thought isn’t headed anywhere. Right now, you need to sleep. Tomorrow, if you still think you should rescind your statement, we’ll figure something out.”  
“Right.” Izzy sounded reluctant but resigned. Clary felt a growing warmth in her chest as Izzy came back down and relaxed.  
“So, what’s your plan for the next hour?”  
“What?”  
“I want a painfully detailed list of what you are going to do before you try to sleep. Bore me to death.”  
“This is ridiculous.”  
“I’m not hanging up.” Clary could almost hear her friend rolling her eyes.  
“Fine. Well, first I need to take the longest shower of my life. I think I still have ichor under my nails…”  
Clary listened as Izzy continued, grounding herself step by step. It seemed that she was coming to terms, or preparing to, with Raphael’s fate. Clary tried to filter through this new information as Izzy detailed her face care routine, still worried about rogue vampires, but far more steadied in taking a weight off Isabelle’s shoulders.

**

“Hey Fray!” Simon shouted down the street when he glimpsed a windswept tousle of ginger hair headed his direction.  
“Hey! I hear you found an apartment!” Clary half-jogged the last few steps to meet Simon at the door of the coffee shop.  
The duo continued their conversation, catching up on the inane details of their absurdly interesting lives. Clary ordered a brewed dark roast, far too impatient to wait on a pour-over. Simon covertly rolled a d20 to pick a drink – 7: latte. This was his new way of making food-based excursions slightly less depressing.  
They found seats by an east-facing window, with sunlight dousing the chipped laminate table.

“I really wish I could drink this without gagging” Simon moped, staring dejectedly at his latte. “My low caffeine lifestyle is going to kill me for good this time”  
“Speaking of-“  
“Of what?” Simon blurted, “The tragedy that is my diet? The tears I have shed over Starbucks?”  
“Um, no. But if you want to wax poetic on your internal coffee versus blood melodrama, we can do that.” Clary tried to hide her giant smile.  
“Nah.” Simon flopped over onto the small table and rested his chin on his arms. “But if you could by me some caffeine gum I will be forever in your debt. And before you ask, no, I can’t do it myself, my bank froze my account after I tried to pay for rent. Apparently it’s unbelievable that someone more or less goes radio silent – as though dead – for several months, then attempts to pay for lodging. I don’t have a good enough excuse to give them yet.”  
“Well, good luck with that. I actually wanted to ask you about the daylighter situation.”  
“Currently pretty low priority considering the whole force-field forehead thing? I guess? What’s this about?”  
“Uh, Raphael, actually. His sister died.”  
“That explains so much.”  
Clary raised an eyebrow and took another sip of her coffee.  
“I visited the DuMort the other night for some advice and overstayed my welcome. I neglected to pay attention to how broken up the guy was, and long story shorter, he tried to rip my head off and got blasted into a wall.”  
“That tracks.”  
“I didn’t know about his sister though. I know he really cared for her – tried to kill me last time I interacted with her.”  
“Also tracks.”  
“But what were you saying about the daylighter thing? I’m confused.”  
“He tried to turn a girl into a daylighter. No idea who, she seemed pretty vengeful though. He wanted to see if he could turn himself. I think he wanted to attend Rosa’s wake.”  
“Oh.” Simon dropped his eyes back to his coffee. His relationship with Raphael was complicated to say the least, but he had given Clary the chance to bring him back, and welcomed him into the New York Clan. As much as he hated to admit it, it was his fault he stood on the ground he did. “Did it work?”  
“No. She got loose and tried to burn him alive à la sunrise. Nearly lost a foot.” Ugh, feet, thought Simon.  
“Izzy and I were looking for the escapee and heard screaming on the roof, but he still almost got fried.” Clary hesitated, unsure whether pressing the daylighter point was too intrusive. If this were human Simon, she would have jumped ahead without a second thought, but now she worried digging into foreign territory. “We were wondering if you had more thoughts about sun immunity – whether it could be induced in some way, or if it’s only a sort of innate, latent power in some vampires.” She wrinkled her forehead, caught up in seeing this line of thought through to the end.  
Simon tensed. Watching his closest friend sit in the bright light of day across a beat-up table, smiling as she thought, he felt the immense guilt of lying by omission. He wanted her to know that it was only angel blood. But it would “only” take one downworlder overhearing to put her in overwhelming danger.  
“It’s not a pre-decided thing, I think,” Simon ceded. Clary was strong and capable, clearly, but he still couldn’t find incentive to put his companion is such unnecessary danger. His face must have betrayed his churning brain, as Clary pressed on, “What are you not telling me? We’ve known each other forever - we dated, for Christ’s sake. I know something’s up.”  
“It’s just, I dunno, stupid vampire stuff. I don’t want to drag the Clave into anything.”  
“Simon, I’m not the Clave. I’m your friend. It’s important to Isabelle that we find out as much as we can so we can figure out what happened to this rogue vampire and deal with her.” Clary fiddled with the silver ring on her pinkie. “Frankly, I think she wants a peace offering for Raphael. She went off on him and banished him from the city. She says she’s worried about downworlder/shadowhunter relations going off the rails, but I think she wants to make up for something.” Clary sighed, thinking of how lost Izzy must be feeling. “I just want her to be happy. And if that takes pleasing Raphael, then so be it.”  
Simon considered how he felt now. He sympathized with Clary’s state of mind. Of course he loved Maia – she was a blessing to this Earth, and too good for him in every way, and she made him comfortable being the way he was, fangs and all. But he felt a connection to Jace on a strange, more animal level. He wanted the reckless shadowhunter to be safe, and happy, and though it pained him to watch Jace and Clary together, these two botched romances getting along better without him, he would still do a heck of a lot to protect his happiness.  
Clary was still staring at Simon intently, waiting. With oscillating resolve, Simon answered like jumping into a cold lake.  
“Remember when Valentine held me captive to lure you the Institute?”  
Unsure where this was headed, Clary frowned. “Yes? How could I forget?”  
“Well I was bleeding out, starting to go comatose, and Jace made it to the office.” Simon was so glad he couldn’t blush right now.  
“Go on…” Clary prompted.  
“Well, he basically forced me to feed from him, and it was – “ Simon caught himself “ – a lot. Just a whole lot of a lot of things. Honestly, I only remember bits and pieces.”  
“Is that what you didn’t want to say? You drank from Jace? Because I don’t care. I asked him to do whatever it took to get you out. I’m just so thankful you survived.” Clary reached out a warm hand and placed in firmly on Simon’s wrist. “If you feel guilty that you get to have sunlight, don’t. I mean it!”  
Simon offered a half smile. Still nervous if he was doing the right thing, Clary’s support was reassuring.  
“That’s not it at all. It’s that – well – Jace’s blood is why I’m a daylighter. It’s the only thing that happened between being regular and this” he gestured broadly to the day around him.  
“That can’t be right. I mean, Raphael and Izzy have a significant history in that department, but he was in no way immune yesterday. Maybe the soul sword did something?”  
“That’s just it – the reason I survived the shock wave was the angelic blood. You and Jace were experiments, you have more heavenly mojo or whatever, and that’s what it took. Regular shadowhunters don’t have the same effect.” Clary sat silent, thinking.  
“Please say you understand why I didn’t say anything. If anything about any of this slips you” and Jace, thought Simon “are going to be in so much danger. Not to mention any sort of long term repercussions.” Simon bit his lip, anticipating any range of responses.  
“I’m glad you told me.” Clary looked up at him with soft green eyes. “Really. I understand the weight of this.”  
Simon nodded fervently, free-falling through relief.  
“And I think I’m set for now on collecting taxing personal information,” Clary laughed. “How about we talk about something a little less life and death.”  
“That’s pretty much my whole life – er – death.”  
They both chuckled and rolled their eyes at the terrible joke.  
“How about your new digs, huh? Who’s your roommate?” Clary leaned in, ready for juicy news.  
Simon relaxed his shoulders and fell into the step of the conversation again. “His name is Kyle. Australian, I think. It’s absolutely insane how lucky I got.”

**

Clary knocked on the dark wood of Izzy’s door. I was approaching night; the weak remaining sun slipped through the stained glass across the hall. “Please?”  
The door opened, revealing a tired Isabelle, eyes puffy and wearing a robe. “Hey Clary, what’s up?”  
“I thought you were going out tonight. You were excited about Meliorn’s thing last time we talked.” Clary suspected this was still because she felt she had made the wrong choice with Raphael.  
“Yeah, I’m not really feeling it anymore. Come inside, jeez, the draft out there is killing me!” Izzy ushered Clary in with a gentle arm across her back.  
Izzy sat Clary onto the foot of her bed, seating herself at her vanity, a maelstrom of lipsticks and eyeliners sitting idle. She crossed her legs and pulled her robe tighter around her shoulders. “Are you going? I can lend you something to wear if you want.”  
“Actually, I wanted to help you out with Raphael.” She searched Izzy’s face for response.  
“Oh, that’s really sweet! But don’t worry about it. What happened happened. I think some distance is best for both of us.” Izzy nodded in agreement with herself. “But who am I kidding, I’ve gotta know what your scheme is.” She grinned slyly at Clary.  
“We can turn him to a daylighter. More accurately, you can.”  
Izzy stared blankly back.  
“It’s not predestined. I – well – I can’t say much more. I found some info in a couple old books and made a few assumptions, but I’m confident this is it.”  
“Clary, I’ve read nearly every book in the library, and I’ve never come across anything other than cryptic prophecy stuff. I appreciate your trying, though.”  
“I can’t tell you how I know, or what it is precisely, but hear me out. I want you to be happy, I want you to feel like you made the right choice. Help him, for you.” Clary leaned into her open-hearted confession, too anxious to back down now. She reached into her bag and presented Izzy with a repurposed jam jar half full of a viscous, dark red slime.  
“Jesus Clary, I don’t even want to know what that is.” She took a beat to evaluate the look on Clary’s freckled face. “It’s blood though, isn’t it?”  
“Yeah. And I get it, giving somebody a jar of blood is both creepy and gross, not to mention a mega biohazard, but this is your solution. This will make Raphael a daylighter, I swear.”  
Izzy wrinkled her face. “You do know he’s a vampire, right? Blood is kind of like, his thing?”  
Clary thought back a few hours to the gory scene in a CVS bathroom. The whole collection process involved razors, tubes and assorted tapes, plus other generally unpleasant tasks. She emerged triumphant into the fluorescent light with a hidden jar of precious body fluid and only a few scabs.  
“I can’t get into it. If he consumes this” Clary wiggled the jar and saw small clots already sloshing along the surface, and nearly gagged, “everybody leaves the situation happy.” She offered a smile to the still-confused Izzy sitting across from her. “I don’t want you to feel guilty. You did the right thing.” Clary stood up and set the jar on the vanity beside Izzy’s left elbow. “You can do whatever you want; I’m on your side.” She turned to leave, but before she could get two steps in Izzy spun her around into a tight embrace.  
“Thank you,” she whispered into Clary’s neck, feeling her soft curls graze her cheek. She felt Clary nod and smile.  
They stayed there a moment in front of the threshold before Izzy hopped back. “We are going to Meliorn’s thing tonight, and you don’t get to back out! Go get ready, and I’ll come get you in-“ Clary watched the dark-haired warrior calculate commuting times, “40 minutes. Okay?” She smiled with all her teeth, once again illuminated with determination.

**

“What the hell are you doing here?” The clan leader growled. His back stayed facing the door where Izzy stood. No one had bothered to turn on any lights for her, so the room was nearly pitch black, the only light emanating quietly from her whip coiled tightly around her wrist.  
“Can we talk?”  
“Clearly we already are.” Raphael turned and flashed over to stand directly across from the shadowhunter. “I’m leaving as soon as the sun sets. What else does the Clave require of me?”  
Izzy panicked and reached into her bag, tightly grasping the jam jar inside. Raphael cocked his head to one side, hearing the clack of nails on glass. He remained silent.  
“I’m sorry. I still mean what I said, you need to leave. But you deserve an apology.” At this, she pulled the jar from her bag. The vampire appeared taken aback.  
“Who do you think I am? You can bribe me with shadowhunter blood and all is forgiven? I thought we were past this.” He turned to leave the conversation.  
“It’s for Rosa.” Raphael paused his walk to the window. “It will make you a daylighter.”  
It was clear Raphael was trying exceptionally hard to keep a handle on his rage. “Do you think this is funny? That you can play games with your downworlder pets?”  
Izzy reached out a hand but quickly pulled back. “I serious. But you have to trust me when I tell you I can’t say anything else.” The air left the room as Raphael surged forward to pin Izzy against the wall. He bared his fangs and hissed frigid air. “And why should I do that?” In the dark she could barely see the sparse light flick off his eyes.  
“You deserve peace,” Izzy whispered. “We both do.” She remained frozen against the iron bar of his arm pressed against her throat. Raphael took a step back but remained tense, fully prepared to strike. “Take it, please.” She raised the jar to press it to his chest.  
Slowly, Raphael reached to gently hold the jar. He looked at it for the first time, deciding whether this object was a weapon or a gift. He glanced at Izzy.  
She straightened her back and squared her shoulders, raised her chin and made the forceful eye contact she had initially intended. “I need to leave now. But consider it.” She nodded toward the sickly jar. Izzy dusted off her dress and straightened her whip bracelet, then she disappeared back through the dark doorway.

The sun set. The sun rose. Light spread out across city and illuminated the neat hedges bordering Green-Wood cemetery. Gathered in a quiet corner where old trees shadowed new plots, a memorial ceremony was drawing to a close. The mourners paid their respects in flowers and prayers, a vast network of lives connected to the body in the ground. In pairs and small groups they left to rejoin their lives until at last a single black-clothed figure stood beside the overturned earth of the grave.  
Raphael took measured steps forward, and knelt to place a small bouquet of lilies beside Rosa’s headstone. Her children had chosen an inscription, it seemed like something she would have liked. He looked to the sky, seeing the blinding blue through the trees leaves for the first time in nearly seventy years. It was like a holy fire burning out the darkness that nested in his chest. A sense of relief washed over him with the day’s warm breeze, picking up dry leaves and the scent of gardenias. Raphael stood slowly, mesmerized by the contrast of dark leather loafers and manicured lawn. Rosa was at rest in a beautiful place. An end had been reached, and a conclusion found. With a bowed head and a renewed spirit, the vampire exited the cemetery gates into glowing morning.


End file.
